


Algor Mortis

by RibsGrowBack



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Dirk's severed head, Gore, Implied necrophilia, M/M, Other, oops Jake is really messed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RibsGrowBack/pseuds/RibsGrowBack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ALGOR MORTIS - The cooling of the body immediately after death to room temperature and temporary stiffening of the muscles.</p>
<p>Somehow, he never manages to measure up to that first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Algor Mortis

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this, unbeta'd, in like 10 minutes so I hope it's not completely god-awful.

Your head is pounding. Your clothes are drenched. Behind you, a volcano erupts.

And you are kissing your best friend's severed head.

A small trail of blood trickles from your joined mouths, more of it running viscous and still-warm down your arms from the stump of his neck. His lips are slack and unresponsive, his tongue thick and claggy with ichor and blood, his skin growing colder by the second. You pry apart his cadaverous lips with your tongue, kissing him with everything you have; a blood-sticky hand tangling in his hair, cupping his severed skull ever-tighter as you devour his mouth.

It sets your blood alight.

-

Dirk's kisses can be sweet. You appreciate them the way you appreciate a hug or a scrum--they're nice, but nice is really all they are. When he playfully growls at you, nipping at your neck and kissing you hard and wanting, you respond in kind, but there's just something  _missing_.  Your thoughts wander, recalling a cold slack mouth, the taste of blood and his incredible stillness. You convince him to start sucking on ice cubes, claiming that it's an adventurer's way to keep hydrated on the run. He humors you, his breath becoming frigid and so very close to perfect, but his mouth warms to yours far too quickly and he's far too eager to respond. Later, you take to sneaking up on him, kissing him before he can react; it's very nearly what you need, but just far enough off the mark to distress you to no end.

Soon, you can't look at him without picturing his head, how heavy it felt in your hands, how sticky-slick the cooling blood was. You jerk each other off in a cavernous tomb, and you can't come until you imagine his hand loose and cold. After he falls asleep, you're sick until you're left shaking and dry-heaving, utterly disgusted with yourself. You don't know what to do--Roxy and Jane can't know; they'd never want to look you in the face again. The sprites, though entertaining and sweet, are not altogether trustworthy, and Caliborn is out of the question. And you'd sooner turn in your pistols than confess to Dirk.

You start making excuses not to kiss him, touch him, even look at him. Dirk seems confused, even hurt, but you tell yourself that it must be for the best. Soon, you leave his planet altogether, retreating to LOMAX in your shame and revulsion. There, it's so much easier to forget how sick you are, how much you hate yourself for wanting Dirk in _that_ way.

You half-hope he will end it. You know you'd deserve it.

-

Run through on his quest bed, he is beautiful. His face is ashen, the blood pooling in a macabre halo all around him. He is still and stiff and cold, and you are harder than you've ever been.

Your resolve lasts only seconds. As you kiss his dead lips, tears fall and pool on his corpse. Between frantic kisses, you whisper apologies to Dirk, to Dirk's cadaver. I'm sorry. Forgive me. I'm so fucking sorry.

You can't regret it for anything in the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> wow I'm sorry


End file.
